


you're my achilles heel

by quinnking



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, episode tag: s03e03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16404611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: "Just feels right, doesn't it?" F.P. murmurs after a couple of moments. He runs his fingers over her knee. "I'm glad the farm, uh, opened you up to the possibility of us."She smiles, that smile, and laughs, and he can't stop looking at her.





	you're my achilles heel

**Author's Note:**

> we got a 20 second scene and no sex and thus: i must write this. although it's more mushy than smutty. you're welcome.
> 
> follow me on twitter (cordeliagoodes) and come scream about them with me!

_this is the golden age of something good and right and real._

* * *

 

They've been doing this for a little while, in secret; hiding away in his trailer, or in her bedroom during the day or late, late at night. But every time she comes to him, kissing him with everything she has and running her fingers through his hair, he thinks it'll be the last so he treats her like the queen she is. 

He kisses down her throat, letting her clothes (her  _new_ clothes, and he thinks he likes them but part of him misses the blouses and the leather) fall to the floor as his lips ghost over every inch of newly revealed skin. 

She lets him go at his own pace, his tongue working her into a frenzy as her thighs hang loosely over his shoulders. They have time, this time. They don't need to rush. He has her gasping and shuddering for him before he even gets inside of her.

When he  _does_ finally push into her, it's slow and deep and it makes her arch against him. He has her hands in his above her head, moving his hips in tandem with hers, relishing in the burn of her teeth against her neck and the ache of her legs tightening around his waist. 

"F.P.," says, breathless, and no matter how many times he hears her say his name like that, he'll always react the same way.

He groans into her collarbone, moves faster and harder until she's tightening around him. He lets her hands go and presses his palms into the mattress to gain more speed and traction. He closes his eyes, sees bursts of white behind his lids, hears her voice, feels her fingers combing through the hair on his neck as they both come down from their high.

They rearrange themselves onto their backs, one of F.P.'s arms under her neck, her hand in his. 

"Just feels right, doesn't it?" F.P. murmurs after a couple of moments. He runs his fingers over her knee. "I'm glad the farm, uh, opened you up to the possibility of us."

She smiles,  _that_ smile, and laughs, and he can't stop looking at her.

"What are you thinking about, Alice?" he asks as he watches her turn away and sigh. 

"It's been three weeks. No more suicides, no more blue lips," she says, as she starts running her own fingers up and down his arm. "As far as the town's concerned it was just two boys taking their own lives for whatever reason."

"Hopefully it ends there." 

She's not convinced. "With Jughead and Betty on the case? You know that's not likely."

And she's right, but he doesn't want to talk about this anymore, not when they're lying like this. Not when they have time to afterglow and forget all the terrible shit they've gone through. So he turns and nuzzles his face into her neck until she kisses him. 


End file.
